


The Dark Side of the Moon

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Futurefic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-09
Updated: 2003-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex feels his world float to the Dark Side of the Moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dark Side of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant as a predecessor to "Heaven and Hell" and its companion piece "Windows to the Soul", but it can be read as a stand-alone. 

## The Dark Side of the Moon

by Lexalot

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/marilynmoxica>

* * *

The Dark Side of the Moon  
By: Lexalot 

Summary: Lex feels his world float to the Dark Side of the Moon. 

Rating: PG-13 

Disclaimer: If I owned Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, and Bruce Wayne don't you think I'd have something better to do than write about them?! 

Inspiration and Reference: Music--"Mad World" as sung by Gary Jules on the Donnie Darko soundtrack, the same cover/version used at the end of the "Smallville" episode entitled "Visage"; Title comes from the song "Kryptonite" by Three Doors Down. 

* * *

\--And I find it kind of funny; I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.-- 

The blue-black night possessed the interior, everything devoured by the pitch with an ethereal sapphire glow. Emptiness in the sky filtered inside through the countless panes of glass that ran down the immense length of wall. Decoration was pointless in here, because no one ever came in but him--no one was allowed to even know about this room, so the vacant space of it went unnoticed and untended. Sharp and thick dust lent the air its scent of desertion. The hard wooden floors were drowned in neon ice obscurity by the decadent hour and its desolate horizon, only a vague luminescence casting shadows from the gargantuan windows. 

Brighter out there than it ever had been in this gaping abyss of a room. This was as close as one could get to adapting a cavernous ambiance to the wealthy indoor eccentricities of home living. This place went unseen by day, untouched by time, and unsung by its sole occupant and frequent visitor. 

As Lex invaded this dubious sanctuary, he swiftly closed the passageway door behind him to reseal the hole he had torn in the dismal solitude that was preserved and protected here to a painstaking degree. After he had groped his course through the blinding nothingness of the secret corridor to seek out this very location, his vision adjusted easily to the dim hues that carved this hideout into cobalt silhouettes. 

Lex identified Bruce's brooding figure in its dormant shape. For a second, Bruce seemed a mere statue, seated in a plain wooden chair, mired in his privacy, despite the loss of it. His body slumped the slightest bit, nearly casual, but not. His arms were folded in what could have been perceived as a superior posture, but wasn't. Subconscious turmoil buried him beneath the surface, and his distance made of him a hollow shell. 

If Lex wasn't mistaken, the snaking coil on the floor was Bruce's tie, discarded from the refinery of his formal attire, the buttons at his collar undone as though he had felt choked by the whole masquerade this wardrobe perpetuated. Lex had been staring at Bruce all evening, watching him behave in the most absurd and alien manner, leaving Lex infinitely amused by the elaborate farce his fellow billionaire staged, spinning a riotous yet believable clich to double as his daily existence. 

The act was more successful than Bruce could tolerate at times. Tonight was no different, a prime example of wrought overwhelm and a testament to his own charisma strangling him amidst the gathered elite. So insufferable was the spotlight that he had retreated to his barren corner of the mansion while people still swarmed his halls and galleries--not uncommon for him to vanish for one reason or another, at these affairs or otherwise. 

Several women had been hovering in his glorious presence on and off, exhibiting their lust for his money and status, not to mention his exceptionally desirable physique. Bruce sometimes permitted one to flaunt herself at his side, while his blank expression played the crowd. The straight line of his mouth passed for a haughty and cultured contentment--though it was as far from that as possible while being the closest thing to a smile that he managed--and despite the daunting pretense, people were hopelessly attracted to him for it. All breeds of aristocratic whore fawned over him in vain, and all ears, male and female, turned sympathetic when he coated his deep voice with a honey-dipped timbre and honored them with a few precious words. Allowing himself to be so publicly adored created the illusion that Bruce Wayne was an actual person with an actual life. The man personified charm on the rare occasion when he chose to do so, which typically meant it was in his best interest. 

At these functions, which he ironically hosted, Bruce morphed into a social charade for high society, this self-degradation serving a greater purpose. He kept a reserved company with his guests only truly acknowledging them upon broaching the subject of his charitable causes. Bruce never had a party that wasn't a fundraiser in disguise. And Lex had never come to a Wayne Invitational without ulterior motive. Of hidden agenda not so well hidden, Lex made a sport of stalking Bruce when he patronized these superficial events. He was a generous contributor though, of course, but whether or not it was out of care for Bruce and his therapeutic, philanthropic crusade was debatable. Lex's main concern was simply getting the Bruce he knew lurked under the faade alone, exclusively his, and that was what brought him here to the virtual haven of the damned a brief while behind his favorite tortured soul. 

Having followed Bruce into uncharted territory, across a threshold Lex had met but not violated before, Lex was now confronted with that man he sought, Bruce in his authentic form, at his most eerily natural. Lex could scarcely fathom the discrepancy between the schooled, cultivated behavior he had witnessed earlier and the inherent, inaccessible countenance he observed in Bruce at that moment. It was as if a light had gone out, like there was a switch Bruce could throw on and off at will, so removed was he that it seemed anything beyond nothing was a deception. 

This, Lex figured, was an accurate assessment of this Bruce Wayne person he had known for so long and not known at all--he was a fiction, perhaps of the more concrete Batman's ruling consciousness. Bruce was capable and skilled at reflecting illumination from the shallow surroundings of his glitzy environment, his veneer reflective like the moon echoing the sunlight. The real Bruce lived on the darkened half of that orbital sphere, in a perpetual state of eclipse. 

Bruce was to the moon as Clark was to the sun. 

That was a sobering philosophy, dreadful how it crept up on Lex like that.Lex had fought with Clark this morning--this had been a massive argument, and nightfall had drawn Lex to Wayne Manor for breath. 

But the idea that his fidelity would crack if he crashed Bruce's Invitational to which he had no invitation did not deter him in the least. 

And here he was, provoking the infringement, willing a solar eclipse to occur, inviting shadows to descend upon the hallowed ground that was the love of his life. Lex wanted to lose himself in the darkness and coolness that was Bruce, because right now he was a welcome alternative to the brilliance and warmth of the Sun. Treading on a thin line that left little open to interpretation, Lex closed the gap between he and Bruce. 

Although he knew Bruce was intensely aware of his presence in this remote refuge, Lex had not caught even a subtle trace of recognition from him, no change in his impassive exterior. However, this was not feigned indifference--it was pure and unrestrained apathy, Bruce's indifference. 

Lex made his approach steadily and slowed to a stop in front of Bruce, but he still went unacknowledged. The pinnacle of tame languor and calculated grace, Lex knelt before the object of his craving, watching him with a dreamy and enticing gaze. Then, Bruce's eyes drifted from somewhere arbitrary and indistinct far off on the long length of floor, and without so much as blinking, Bruce's stare met Lex's in an expression that was completely devoid of reaction. 

To Lex, it was tantamount to consent, equaling any type of vocalized permission he would not have received from Bruce nor asked him to give. Lex curled his hands around the top of Bruce's knees and gently prodded his legs to open. Bruce lent no resistance, and as his thighs spread apart, Lex slid his hands up the inside of them, inching his entire body forward between the separated limbs to be closer--it used to be one of Lex's favorite jokes; divide and conquer. 

Where to start plundering first--he began by stretching up to reach Bruce's lips from his deceivingly submissive position. As Bruce's arms gradually eased from their tight guard and dropped to dangle at his sides, Bruce mutely yielded to him, as if by borrowed will, and Lex's tongue was in his mouth, tasting the sour residue of white wine. The flavor was the last remnant of his counterfeit persona clinging to him in any way, the only lingering hint of artificial light he generated for the extravagant bash that still carried on in this same building, yet it was a world away from his asylum here. Lex consumed every last suggestion of the fine fermented elixir, furiously exploring until the dark sensation of Bruce was all that was left. 

He detected the carnal passion his challenging aggression had aroused in Bruce, and he withdrew from the ferocious kiss as it was being reciprocated. 

At the loss of that electric exchange ripe with the fruits of intense physical contact, Lex glimpsed Bruce's animalistic hunger in his grave features, heavy with serious menace, and at this, a wicked grin was born on Lex's face. He reverted back to the coy tease of tender play, sensuously dragging his lips down the side of Bruce's chiseled jaw and along the vein in his neck, applying pressure at varying intervals on the muscular landscape of his skin. Traveling the undone line of his collar further down to the last button that had been separated from its slit, Lex stepped up his efforts, finding the concealed terrain of Bruce's chest irresistibly entreating. His hands slowly untucked Bruce's white cotton shirt from his black suit slacks, then slipped his hands up underneath it to caress the firm flesh there, to experience the faintest dusting of fair downy hair at his fingertips. When his eyes fluttered open, the rustling movement of Bruce's shirt temporarily hypnotized Lex as his hands manipulated a whole host of erogenous zones beneath it. He continued to stroke Bruce in that tantalizing fashion, pushing the limits of patience and merciless teasing, while he licked random patterns on the exposed upper valley of Bruce's torso. 

Lex was finally ready to encroach upon the forbidden path that led to Bruce's sex, meaning to consummate this trespass. 

As he sank between Bruce's wide legs, his hands slinking down to Bruce's pants, Lex suddenly felt his lover's body stiffen and his back straighten in undiluted concentration. In a split second, Bruce's demeanor had transformed into something entirely altered and unique. Tossing a confused look up at Bruce, Lex saw his eyes blaze alive with fierce radiance. Sensing the urgency and following the line of sight, Lex glanced over his shoulder, and then back at his old friend, struck by the realization that Bruce's eyes were glowing with real purpose, not just false reflection. 

The grand windows that provided a scenic and mythical overview of Gotham City below now displayed a solitary beam piercing the darkness to dominate the night sky--it was his signal. Lex silently wondered if Bruce just sat here so often waiting for that light to come on, but the answer preceded the question in his mind. Bruce probably lived for that light; it was the only illumination there was to him, representative of the only feeling he would ever really know. Lex half-sighed and half-snickered to himself, then reconnected with Bruce's stare, where Lex's defeated understanding marred his previously mischievous and superior air. 

And thus, Lex's trip to his lunar celestial body was interrupted. Every visit with Bruce suffered interference like this, so many unfinished moments, so commonplace that Lex had grown accustomed to the subsequent abandonment. Rarely did their time together end on Lex's account. 

The circumstances here were impeccably typical too, being that this was Lex's first call paid upon Bruce since the day the deplorable rift between he and Clark regrettably emerged. That was a little less than a year ago, and this was their first tangible encounter all evening, neither having spoken a word to the other, even keeping quiet still, their language of choice this night completely physical. In that very spirit, Lex fell back on his heels and gave way to Bruce, gesturing with his arm lazily extended towards the passageway door, well aware that it headed exactly where Bruce was going--where he always went. 

In the midst of Bruce's hasty departure, Lex was incredulous. There were plenty of people who would have given anything to receive some brand of attention from Lex, countless numbers of individuals who lusted after him struggling to gain his affections, yet Lex felt like he had just wasted his favor on the dark side of the Moon. Bruce was so immediately lost to him, even as Lex offered his pleasure so readily and freely, and it did not mean a thing. How could he compete with the sole source of light in Bruce's world--especially when the prevailing side of Lex's own world was rotationally shrouded by darkness. 

The darkness... Lex began to feel very cold. 

This was an effect rooted in Bruce himself as much as his absence. 

Clark drew his strength from the sun, and Lex drew his warmth from Clark. 

Lex felt the chill deepen, trying to take hold of him, and he decided it was time he returned home to his beloved. 


End file.
